


Talk some Sense to me

by ScifiSOS



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, F/M, Horrible I stayed up most of the night and continued early in the morning writing, Somewhat a near future fic, Trespasser Spoilers, a horribly written fight scene, inspired by a song but not exactly a song fic, you are going to dread these puns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-17
Updated: 2015-09-17
Packaged: 2018-04-21 03:56:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4814036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScifiSOS/pseuds/ScifiSOS
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If you talk enough sense, then you’ll lose your mind. </p><p>Though without him, she probably already has.</p><p>[Trespasser spoilers]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Talk some Sense to me

**Author's Note:**

> Someone, SOMEONE in the solasvallen tumblr tag posted this song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PbSZhGONRBg
> 
> And it gave me the feels. You’re definitely going to see some lyrics in here. Or a variation of it.
> 
> I started this last night and stayed up til...near four am? writing this. Got up this morning and have been working on it since then. You can probably tell where I started getting tired and when I was kinda sorta awake lol. And I didn't edit this - at all. Sorry. I write to enjoy it and when I worry about grammar and such, it starts sucking the life outta me.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this, I'm going to return to the trash, where I belong.
> 
> Any information on the elves or the elven language I got from the dragon age wiki. And I didn't bother trying to get her uuh...elven nickname translated. I pretty much butchered it all I think. pfft.
> 
> http://dragonage.wikia.com/wiki/Elven_language  
> http://dragonage.wikia.com/wiki/Elven_pantheon

The harsh Tevinter sun warmed her skin, it reminded her that she is still alive. Even when she feels so tired and so dead. She’s been three years without him by her side.

Ghewen took a drink from her flask. ‘ _Close, so close. Another encounter, another attempt…another failure.’_ Each step in this desert, towards another temple – another ruin, the dread grew.

Solas truly is the Dread Wolf. Wherever he went, she followed – dread and sadness clinging onto her – the knowledge that after three years; she still wasn’t enough. She thwarted him well enough, but trying to talk sense to him is making her lose her mind. His teeth scarred her but she is the one who can’t let go.

She could feel herself waning. She wants to give up. She’s tired of being a leader. All the heavy decisions of the past and present weigh on her. She’s lost people, gained people, failed people, and saved people. She is feared, and is worshipped. Hated, and loved. Some have taken to calling her Andraste’s reincarnation for the deeds she’s done. Elves who have not followed Fen’Harel have referred to her as the Golden Halla, because of her unique features...it is unnerving. Not to mention it was such a stupid title.

Solas had one thing correct, when war is brewing, people look for simplicity. Humans try to raise her up, ignoring the point of her ears because it’s convenient. The elves look at her as some sort of savior of the elves. All because she has done what was thought to be impossible. Because she’s chosen to save people, no matter the race, rather than to let them rot.

She isn’t trying to be anyone’s savior. _‘Though I suppose I should be thankful the dwarves haven’t started worshiping me and never will,’_ She thought.

She licked her lips and pushed on, traveling alone for once. She had stopped bringing her new companions along, because with each failure, hope dwindled.

She didn’t wish for anyone else to experience that. The only thing that kept her moving, was making Solas her focal point. Only Solas. She inwardly cringed, horrified by what she has been reduced too. Love was not meant to be an obsession. It was not meant to be a desperation. It is meant to be gradual, beautiful, and wondrous.

She just wants to be happy with him. Selfish, but true. She wants him to be happy as well. He believes himself unworthy, but she believes that he deserves it. A chance to be happy and truly be able to rebuild from what is left. Not with what is gone.

Her companions from her days in the Inquisition still keep in touch with her, but they don’t believe in her cause as much as she does. They still offered to join her though, but she couldn’t do that to them. They deserve their lives. Besides, she heard Dorian is actually doing some good in Tevinter. Bull and his chargers are doing as good as ever, with side trips to this blasted place as well. Varric has rebuilt Kirkwall and kept up with his writing. Cassandra is happy with each book sent. Sera is…being Sera though her widdle has joined her this time. Blackwall – well she’s not sure what he’s doing, always the secluded person when on a journey.

She doesn’t dare think of how Vivienne is doing. They had a fragile respect between them, so it is easier to exchange pleasures occasionally. Like once a year.

She gasped as wind suddenly picked up. Sand flying wildly, she covered her eyes, squinting and walking on. It proved too much, and she knew it was him. He always knew when she was nearing, just like she could sense him. Perhaps, after all the years of chasing him in her dreams and in reality – they became in tune with each other. _What a sad way to get accustomed to each other_.

Ghewen felt frustration stab her mind. A headache forming, she screamed. “YOU CAN’T JUST MAKE THIS EASY FOR ONCE CAN YOU!” She cursed, raising her hand and pushing a barrier out. The sand swirled around it, and then fell.

She dropped the barrier, annoyed and tired. “You’re a tit, Solas. I don’t even know why I love you.” She mumbled. A whoosh and she is _covered_ in sand. She gaped. Is he _playing_ with her? Creators, how is he even doing this? Her eye twitched and she stomped forward, the temple in sight now.

\---------------

She blasted the temple door open, angry. Fucking thing did not want to budge, and she had one arm. There wasn’t even a puzzle and it refused to move. Now she understood how spirits became frustrated with this world. A door is meant to open, damn it.

She started to miss her companions as she continued.

Passing through puzzles, demons and spirits, and _spiders_. **_She hates spiders_**. Her spirit blade, no longer just a blade, whipped out at her enemies while lightening crackled around her. She is stronger than she was a year ago. Solas, having taken down _some_ of the veil a year ago, is stronger as well. She had stopped him from completely tearing it down. The world adapted, but fear grew when mages became stronger and born more frequently whether the parents had the talent or not. Spirits drifted out cautiously, though demons ripped their way through as well. The world was in chaos, but she did her best to educate those willing to listen. In return, they taught others as well. Relations with friendly spirits were, slowly, improving. She hoped that it would show him that they could change the world, bit by bit, instead of ripping it apart. Yet he always ran.

One of the Evanuris had escaped because of that tear too. Andruil was a fierce archer, and a terrifying mage. Angry, that… **monster** lashed out at the world. Prepared to scorch the earth to get her revenge on Fen’Harel. To claim the land as hers once again. ‘ _Bow once more, slave, and I can rise the elven to glory once again._ ’ Ghewen had battled and won, but with help from Solas. However, no one in her world acknowledged it, because he caused this chaos. Just her, focused on her. _Eyes everywhere judging, worshiping, scared, stop looking at me, please, I do not want to be seen anymore. Why am I not dead yet?_

She knew that if they were finally forced to battle, that she would lose. Purposely? Perhaps, because she knew she could not kill him. Though, he had sucked out the soul of Mythal, so there is that too.

 She is just so…done. So tired. Gave up on herself five years ago, but not on him.

Never on him.

\---------------

She sat in a dark corner of a corridor, resting. He has not come to her, _why must she always be the one chasing?_

‘ _Because you’re stupid, that’s why_.’ She sighed. Her mind always against her. She shut it off, because it would drag her down into a dark place that made her want to give up.

 _Not yet_. She got up to continue, a sinking feeling causing her to shudder. Her eyes scanned her surroundings.

Someone was watching her and it wasn’t Solas.

For some reason, she felt like death had its hand on her shoulder. Whispering a small prayer, she continued her journey.

\---------

‘ _Finally_ ,’ She thought as she pushed the temples main chambers open. She figured out she was in the temple of one of the Forgotten Ones, that's if she read the inscriptions correctly. It took her by surprised, because he usually stuck with his own sanctuaries or a place of Mythal’s.

She paused, spotting him immediately. Back turned, one hand behind his back and the other pressed against his chin – he is in thought.

“So you’ve come.”

She scanned the room, looking out for any sentinels or followers that may be lurking in the shadows.

“We are alone, Inquisitor.”

She pressed her lips and glared at his back. “I have not been Inquisitor for a long time.”

His chuckle is hollow. “Yes, how could I forget, you are Andraste’s reincarnation. Or should I call you the _Golden Halla_?”

Ghewen shot a weak lightening at him; he sidestepped, turning his body to face her. Her heart skipped a beat, handsome as ever. While wrinkles were starting to appear around her brow, her hair showing signs of white as she continued to take on burden after burden.

“I am no god. No savior. I am just a woman who hasn’t given up on the man she loves.” Her voice echoed throughout the empty hall.

“No, you are just a woman who does good deeds, while I’m the villain set out to destroy the world.”

Ghewen can hear the bitterness in his voice. Always portrayed as evil, but she does not feel pity or sympathy. He chose this path. He had seen the consequences of his actions once before.

“I have not changed my mind.”

She flinched. She knew. She knows. “Solas, this has been going on for years, please. Either let us end this or let us live out our life. Together this time.” She takes baby steps towards him, he is like a skittish halla who wears the skin of a wolf.

“I cannot.”

She let out a frustrated noise, a growl. “You haven’t even _tried_! When are you going to _wake up_ and realize that you are making a mistake?! That there is **proof** this world doesn't need to be utterly destroyed to get what _you_ want!”

He remained silent. She sighed, rubbing her face with her hand. “I am _tired_.”

Silence. She takes more steps towards him, surprised he has not run away, like he always has in the past. Soon, she is standing before him. She looks up at him, his eyes does not meet hers. They never do.

“Aren’t you tired of this game of cat and mouse?” She licks her lips, unsure if she should reach out for him or not. It has been so long since she’s touched him. She is afraid to. “I am tired, Solas. I am only here for you. But I have no desire to live like this anymore. This isn't how it's supposed to be, what we are meant to be.”

A subtle flinch, one she could only see by observing closely. It had been three years since she’s said such things to him. “Everywhere I go, there are eyes on me. Solas, they watch and they wait. Like they expect me to start glowing and be all holy and lead them to salvation.” A wry smile appeared on his face. He always loved her sarcasm – when it is not directed at him. She tried to duck her head, make him look into her eyes, but he closes them. "I can't keep living without my heart."

Silence. What can she do to make him _see_? 

She could feel tears forming, and she pushes them back. Crying doesn’t help, never helps, and she would never use them against him purposely. She rubs the stub of her old arm anxiously. “Please, Solas, look at me. Talk to me.” She swallows, feeling hope dying once again. She doesn’t understand why it always flares up, when she sees him. Perhaps it is because he once gave her hope. Love.

All gone because of pride and guilt.

That feeling of something or someone lurking came back. She tensed. So did he, she could feel his magic expand out, feeling for intruders they could not see.

“You need to leave.” His voice startled her, she looked at him.

“Solas-“

She gasped as something hit her in the leg, her knees buckled and she fell. Solas caught her, called out her name, _it’s been so long since he’s called me by my name_. Yet she brushes him off and pulls up a barrier. _‘I should have worn better armor_.’ The thought came and left. No time to regret it.

“Pull out the knife.” She commanded “Do you know who is attacking?”

“I do not.” He answered. She gritted her teeth as he yanked out the dagger swiftly. His magic washing over her injury, she felt it knit itself together in seconds. The pain lingered, but she had no time to worry about it.

A large blast of magical energy hit her barrier and shattered it. The two of them blown back by the force.

“-Ghewen, Ghewen! Are you alright?”

She wanted to slap him, of all times, now he chose to be attentive to her? “Solas, you have **_dreadful_** timing.”

She could hear the vein pop out of his head. “And you still have the worst sense of humor.” He gripped her elbow and helped her up roughly.

Stillness. She could practically feel frustration rolling off him in waves. Their eyes searched the chamber.

Movement. In a second, she raised her stub of an arm and whipped out her magic. A pained groan as it wrapped around the attacker.

“…Sylaise?” Solas whispered. The color left her face. Another Evanuris.

“Traitor!” The false-goddess spat out.

“I do not understand, I have not…”

“A tear, a rip, it was enough.” The woman’s face contorted into angry sorrow. “You trapped us all, never questioning who was actually involved in Mythal’s murder.”

“You were all power hungry, how was I to tell friend from foe at the time?” Ghewen could hear his voice breaking. Yet she could not take her eyes off the goddess. "Ir abelas, I did not think-'

“Tel’abelas. You have taught me a valuable lesson. Never trust a wolf in sheep’s clothing.” Then flames wrapped around her spirit ‘blade’. Ghewen released her magic, both her and Solas dodging in opposite directions.

“Is this your lady love I hear so much about?” The goddess taunted, she looks to her with _concern_? “Are you sure you want to die for him? He only brings death.”

Her spirit blade forms from her limb. The goddess face hardens. “Very well.”

Ghewen pulled up a barrier when strips of fire charged at her. It strained, the Evanuris are too powerful. She swallowed. _Please, I can’t die. I need to help him_. She put more magic behind it.

Solas attacks Sylaise. Grabbing her attention, Ghewen let out a breath of relief, dropping her barrier.

Again, that cold feeling. She dodged on a hunch, her side being scraped by a throwing dagger. A man lunged out at her, moving quick. She could only make tiny barriers, her mana still recovering. Dagger, magic, dagger, attack, a small opening – attack, dodge, attack and magic – no time to recover mana.

“Darthamen!” Solas voice called out in a low, harsh growl. His attention is reverted back to the goddess when she hurls a fireball at him.

The god is silent. The speed of his attacks increased, she bit her lip in concentration, dodging what she could.

“Oh that is enough!” She yelled, ducking instead of dodging. She held her ground with her one hand and kicked her legs out under him.

“Hah! I just tripped a god, damn, if Varric could see this.” She said, feeling a surprising rush of joy. She tried to put some distance between them. Preparing herself when he recovered.

“Don’t get cocky, shemlen.” She watched as he got on his knees, almost mimicking the ancient elven statues she’s seen of him.

“Not even a little bit?” Ghewen taunted.

 _‘Oh Creators, no wait they are the creators, Oh…knickerweasles? Is he…smirking at me?’_ She thought idly as she waited for him to move first.

He did.

\-----

The fight continued, somehow Solas and her got caught in the most cliché pose that appears frequently in Varric’s books.

Fighting back to back. It is giving her a rush. Because she missed him. **_So much_. ** Somehow, this is enough to make her happy. Isn't she just a broken mess?

“So, Solas, how does it feel to be the sidekick, fighting back to back with the heroine.”

“Ghewen…”

“Oh right, sorry, I imagine your godly pride can’t take the blow of being sidekick to a woman.”

“This is not the time, vh- _Ghewen_.”

“Varric would think this is the perfect time.”

“Varric is not here and I am not Varric.”

She sighed. “I know. You lack those magnificent curly locks of chest hair. Or hair – in general. Why don’t you grow it out? You could fashion them into dreads. Then you’d be the dre-”

“Don’t say it.” He mumbled, flinging an ice spell at their enemies.

“-ad wolf.” She finished, enjoying this banter.

Suddenly, Solas grips her arm and pulled her into his. Hand raised and barrier up. “Is this where I insert the cheesy romantic line then?”

“No, _that’s my job_. You stole my thunder.” She says, shrugging her way out of his grip. Ignoring the flame and lightening crackling over and around the barrier. She takes this time to take a lyrium potion. Her mana was draining faster than usual, ‘ _I smelled a faint smell of something- blood lotus? and I don't know– It coated the dagger that cut my side. It is only draining my mana. I’ll be fine.’_

“My apologies then.” Dangerous magical explosion ended. Barrier down and they both jumped back into the fight again.

\-------

She is tired, and exhausted, and _tired_. Her movements slowing, she’s nearly ran into the knife several times. Her cuts are bleeding, but they were shallow, it is okay. _I’ll be okay_.

Yet all these “ _elven gods”_ are still going at it.

 _The Evanuris would have destroyed the world_.

She shuddered, recalling Solas’s words. Battling Andruil, she knew it was true.

Battling two gods at once…and she could see how this could have destroyed the world if all had escaped. Their magic seemed limitless, to a… _normal_ mage like herself.

‘ _Yay me’_ She thought sarcastically. ‘ _Prevented Solas from unleashing them all at once, but you know, three out of – what...seven? That isn’t so bad_.’

\------

There was definitely something on that dagger, because now it seems to be affecting her body too.

She’s distracted, she knows, Dirthamen keeps his focus on her. It is harder to keep hers on his. She feels lightheaded, weak. Her cuts are too shallow to be doing this.

She’s impressed him, he said so. Is it a poison, or a drug? How is she not dead yet? ' _Solas is still alive, you need to fight_.'

She is panting, dodging is harder, her bones feel heavy, her muscles feel heavy, her fucking eyeballs felt heavy, and she knows she isn’t going to last much longer. Then she trips on her own damn legs, the god of secrets and knowledge catches her, pushing a blade into her almost gracefully. He watches her face. She’s so breathless she can’t scream.

“Ir Abelas,” the god says voice raspy. She tries to push him away, but she has no more strength left.

He pushes it in deeper and she gasps. He lays her on the ground and pulls out the dagger. Blood flowing more freely than it should. “You would have lived well in our world. I hope you find peace in death.” He prepared to thrust the dagger back into her.

She couldn’t move, closes her eyes. ‘ _I am sorry, Solas_. _I have failed you_.’

“ ** _NO_**!”

She could feel the magic as Solas released it in waves. She opened her eyes to see the god pushed back and hears the other curse.  Hands slips under her body, lifting her up. It feels like their flying. She blinked, eyesight blurry, Solas is gliding through the corridor. Heat passes by them, Sylaise.

They stop. She watches as Solas builds up an ice wall. It flashed prettily as fire and lightening hit it.

“That will hold them off temporarily.” He murmured.

Ghewen looked up at him and smiled weakly. “You should make **your** escape.”

He glares at her coldly for the implication. She closes her eyes as he pushed his magic into getting them to safety.

\-------

She babbles to him. Reminding him of the time, she got drunk and ran around Skyhold naked with Sera. It comforts him. Each story she tells, he makes sure to answer. His voice barely hiding his distress. When she stops talking, he calls out to her, coaxes her into telling him something else.

_‘You know, Varric looks pretty handsome on his throne. That chest hair, I am glad he never closes his shirt…’_

_‘I visited Sera; we shot arrows to scare the crap out of nobles…’_

_‘I went on a job with the Chargers once, I got Bull to throw me at an archer in the tree, and then…’_

_‘You know, I met the strangest elf a while back, she asked me if I needed a ball of twine to find my way back…’_

_‘I caught Cassandra reading another author’s book, I threatened to tell Varric and she gave me the sexiest glare ever…’_

_‘…ran into the Champions lover once…’_

_‘…orian has a secret cellar of Ferelden drafts. I knew he liked them.’_

_‘I still don’t like Vivienne.’_

_‘Blackwall is a hermit; did you know he was a hermit? Don’t worry, you still hold the number one spot as super hermit.’_

When he finally stops, she forces her eyes open. _So tired_. She looks at the familiar mirror towering over them.

“You know, they could follow you through the Eluvian.”

“Us and yes. However, I have control over them. I can get us away from here. It’ll take them some time for them to override my magic.”

“Solas…”

“ ** _No_**.” His voice is stern; his grip tightens for a moment. Effortlessly, she hears his magic make another ice wall at the entrance.

“It’s for the best.” She looks up into his face. Her heart aches as _he looks at her_ as if he is the one dying.

“I refuse.”

She smiles. “Sometimes we don’t have a choice.” _You’ve always left me without one._

He walked towards the Eluvian, eyes glowing. The mirror illuminated for a moment, then dimmed but is clearly active. “Then I’ll just have to take a page out of your book,” He shifted his grip on her, holding her closer, and stepped into the Eluvian. “I’ll ignore it and do what I want anyways.” He glances down at her and smiles – shakily but it is there. “Besides, what is the old Dalish curse? May the dread wolf take you?”

_Oh, how I have **missed** that cheeky smile._

\-----------

For a while, she was able to keep her eyes open. Going into mirror after mirror, activating and deactivating as they pass through. ‘ _We’re almost there, vhenan, hold on for me_.’ He said, but even gods have limits. He was starting to slow down.

He had stopped to heal her major injury as much as possible, but she had lost so much blood and he was almost out of mana. She murmured to him ‘ _I think he coated his blade with something._ ’ It spurred him into action once more, cursing under his breath, begging her to speak to him. She tries, but it became harder and harder to as time passed.

He calls out to her; she forces herself to blink several times before closing her eyes again. ‘ _Yes, I’m still alive. Somehow.’_

It does not reassure him, but she’s so _tired_. They went through another Eluvian. She can feel the sun. It incased her with warmth but she still felt cold.

“We’re here, I promise, please stay with me.” He whispers. He manages to get them to…wherever his destination is, quickly.

She is placed on something, _probably a cot you dolt_. He forces her mouth open, pouring potions down her throat. He helps her swallow each of them. ‘ _You should be saving these.’_ She wants to say.

His magic ghosts over her skin, she smiles. ‘ _At least he’s with me_.’ She remembers happier memories, before they slip away.

Then nothing.

\-----------

The Dread Wolf, Fen’Harel, but he is none of those. Just Solas.

She always just saw Solas. Even after he revealed the truth, she called him by his true name.

He holds her tight, trying his best to take them to a safe place. The Fade is even more fragmented. She had stopped him from tearing the veil completely, making a part of this world slip into the ‘waking’ one.

 He has to take different paths to get to where he wants. He is frustrated; he tries to focus on that.

It helps him ignores it, how cold her skin gets. How her breath get shallower. Then her eyes close. And he can’t.

“Ghewen, ma vhenan, please. Open your eyes, speak to me.” He begs.

She blinks, but he can see how hard it is for her.

He knew. He always knew that people would die, that she would die, but he never thought he would be there when she did. He had foolishly hoped that, when she passed, he wouldn’t have to watch her go. That she would have lived while she could. Far away from him. Out of sight, out of mind. He would have mourned, but he could have moved on easier. At least, he hoped he could, would? **No**. **No, not yet. Not _now_.**

These past years, she chased him. Begged him, talked to him, yelled at him, attacked him on several occasions and he always ran. Because he couldn’t hurt her just as she couldn’t hurt him. He had always wanted to grab her, kiss her, yell at her, and hold her. _Why can’t you just stay away_?!

 **Why couldn’t you have stayed away**?

His people that remained began to doubt him, because it had been three years and he had been thwarted by a mortal- a _shemlen_. He doubted his resolve, because each time she came for him. He could feel a piece of her latch onto him and tempting him. Still, he always ran from it. From her.

He knew that she would die at the hands of the Evanuris. Just like many others would. But not in front of him. Not because she choose to fight with him, for him.

‘ _Aren’t you tired of playing this game of cat and mouse_?’

**Yes. Why couldn’t you have stayed away?**

Finally. This is where he wanted to go. A crumbling sanctuary, smaller than others he has built but it will do. He forces one last rush of magic. He is exhausted but there were supplies that could fix that.

He manages to make it to the entrance, spilling out words. The door opens and he rushes in, heading to the first room and to first cot he sees. He places her on it, goes to grab what he needs.

He returns, quickly swallows a potion to replenish his magic, and then focuses on her. He gives her something that should get whatever was in her system out. He nearly lets out a sob when she proved to weak to swallow on her own. He whispers to her, helping her until he could see and feel her swallow. He gave her the other, for her blood to replenish, helping her again.

Then he goes to close her cuts, but they aren’t bleeding as much now. He worries, but continues anyways.

\----

‘ _She grips his hand, pulling him towards the celebration._

_“Dance with me!”_

_Her smile is blinding, warm; he has not seen such a look directed towards him in a long time._

_“I have to tend to my studies. You should go celebrate with the others.”_

_She pouts, widening her eyes. “Do you dislike me that much?” She asks with false? innocence._

_Is she…making her eyes water on purpose?_ ’

\------

He blinked unshed tears away, all her injures gone but her chest is not moving. **_No_**. He hovers a hand over her nose and mouth. Nothing.

“No, no, _no no **no**_.”

He breathes air into her, places his hands at the center of her chest. He counts each second, trying to force life back into her.

\-----

_He knew she would come down and question him. He is questioning himself._

_ “Sweet talker.” They look away from each other, embarrassed. He is somewhat mortified with himself.  _

_ A hand pressing his shoulder gently, he turns with it. Soft lips pressed against his, she is so warm and inviting. She is testing the feeling, always curious. Always wondering.  _

_ She pulls away, and he chases her. _

_He never thought he would find someone like her - anyone like her, in this world. She intrigued him. Captivated him, not just by her beauty, but also by her wisdom. Her playfulness. Her ability to draw him out and want to tell her everything. To give her everything._

_But he will only take too much in the end._

_\-----_

He paused, watching for any signs of movement. _Please_. **_Losing you would destroy me_** _._ He pushes down on her chest again. Breathes into her again. Watches her. The repetition slowly killing him.  

‘ _Aren’t you tired of playing this game of cat and mouse_?’

_‘So much. I am sorry. Wake up, keep talking some sense to me.’_

He couldn’t breathe, even when he’s gasping for air. His chest is caving in on itself. He places his mouth over hers. **Breathe**.

\-------

_He blinked sleepily. When did he fall asleep? Groaning, he pulled himself off his desk, out of his chair, and walked towards the couch – not ideal but much more comfortable._

_When he knew he was close, he blindly reached out and took a step back when he felt…hair? He opened his eyes fully and watched her chest rise and fall. She is dead asleep._

_A smile found its way onto his face. He leaned down and brushed a few of her blond strands back. He planted a kiss onto her forehead. “Ma vhenan.” He called out softly._

_She grumbled, her eyes barely opening. He chuckled. “I need my couch back, love.”_

_He watched as she scooted up lazily, eyes closed again. He sat, nudged her with his foot when she wouldn’t move, then let her fall back on him once they both finished adjusting. His hands wrapped around her, while hers dangled off to the side. She fell back asleep immediately. He basked in the feeling of wholeness, before drifting off into the Fade as well._

\-----

He sat in the chair beside her, watching her chest rise and fall. Her hand trapped between his own, his thumb rubbing over her slow pulse.

Time passed, he pays it no mind. He just watches her. He wonders if he can hear him talk to her. Reluctant smiles coming to his face when he imagines what she would say.

_‘I’d love to wake, but I can feel you staring and its creeping me out.’_

_‘How long have you been sitting there? You need to get out. Get some fresh air, eat, shower – because I am not waking up if you smell bad.’_

_'Oh, now you miss me. Don't worry, I'll wake when I'm ready.'_

Those smiles didn’t last long because each minute that passed, he could hear her voice getting dimmer.

\------

Four days have passed. He cares for himself robotically, being as quick as possible, before going back to her side. There is some color on her face, but she is still recovering. ‘ _She’ll wake up_.’ He repeats to himself.

He talks, his voice already hoarse. He presses his thumb against her pulse, reassuring himself that she was still alive.

“Waking to this world, I never thought I’d find love of all things, ma sa'lath. Yet there you were, right in front of me.”

\------

“I thought that if I pulled away from you, I could let go of these feelings.” He explained to her the next day. “But I’ve missed you more than I thought I would.”

He chuckled dryly. "You've changed everything. You change me. You are always changing. Yet you are always the same. Beautiful and alive..." He closed his eyes. "I am sorry. I always left you.The power you have over me is astounding, it frightened me. I knew that I would not be able to free my people if you were by my side." A sob escaped, he bent over her hand, pressing it against his forehead. "I will stay, I will listen, you just need to _wake up_."

A groan, he froze. He jerked his head up and searched her face, the eagerness to see her open her eyes overwhelming him. He couldn't stop the pleas that left his mouth. “Ghewen, vhenan, open your eyes. Please.”

They fluttered lightly at first. He leaned over her, cupping her cheek with his hand. “Ghewen…”

She blinked, trying to focus her eyes. He felt his breath leave his lungs as they zoned in on him. ‘ _How I’ve missed that sheen of gold_.’

“You need to come with a warning sign,” she rasped out. “You look like shit.”

He laughed, pressing his forehead against hers.

\-------

_‘Solas, var lath vir suledin!’_

_‘Ma nuenin, emma lath. Ma melava halani. _Ar lath ma, vhenan.'__

**Author's Note:**

> I was originally going to split this into two parts but its finished so meh.
> 
> I will probably post a separate fic of the aftermath. Telling her his decision, deciding to change the world together. Etc. But atm I'm just...blah. Just all these angst feels. Super happy endings aren't happening anytime soon.
> 
> I kinda think of her spirit blade [that is the name right? I keep thinking arch blade] as something I've seen on avatar gifs. Where some girl has her water powers lashing out of her amputated arms. Idk it looked cool. I don't watch the show but yeah it was too cool not to take inspiration from lol.
> 
> I plan on animated a dance between Solas and Ghewen at some point [trying to choreograph it in a way I like]. Which means a bunch of thumbnails, staring at dance moves [contempory mostly], camera angles, animatics, and then replaying the song and hearing it make weird noises as I put it in Flash and go back and forth trying to time it right.
> 
> I plan to have it start with his Haven…uh…attire. Pajamas. Pfft. Then somehow incorporate his outfit changing to the one in Trespasser [but good lord I am not putting those knee faces on it], while her hair grows out and changes into what I think she’ll look like in Trespasser and after that. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
